


Downshift

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Holodecks/Holosuites, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the Holodeck and the car and the wet!Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downshift

**Author's Note:**

> tree_faerie_me made a mix for this! And it is awesome! And you should download it! And if the link is dead, leave a comment and I shall re-upload it! :D
> 
> [   
> ](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=R1BONAW0)

It takes Jim about three days of Captaincy to get enough time to try out the Holodeck.

It takes Jim about three days and four hours to get Bones in there with him.

And it takes Jim exactly three years, two hours, and five minutes to get Bones to have sex in there with him.

Not that he's counting.

Except he totally is.

 

  
**a**   


Jim sets the thing for ten minutes, the first ten minutes he's had for himself in the for-fucking-ever that saving the world resembles, and considers doing cartwheels over the large, open space before the setting kicks in.

When it does, he still wants to do cartwheels. He does a slow spin instead, his mouth open as he takes in the fields, the trees, the _birds_ …

And the long, twisty road in front of him, upon which sits a gleaming black '62 Corvette.

Kirk smiles like he knows the best secret ever.

"Fuck yeah."

 

  
**b**   


"No."

"Bones, it's perfectly safe."

"I know it's perfectly safe, you imbecile; I'm no genius but I _can_ read basic scientific theories."

"Then why won't you come with me?"

"I'm busy."

"Anybody dying?"

McCoy lowers his PADD and points his eyes towards the ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. "Jim, I have other duties even when you're not in here bleeding out on my--"

"Chapel," Kirk says loudly, and the nurse snaps to immediately. "At ease," he amends, turning to her. "Would it be an issue if I stole the CMO for a ten?"

Chapel raises an eyebrow--picked that up from McCoy in a very short time, apparently, or maybe it's a conspiracy--and shakes her head. "No, sir."

"Good." He takes the PADD from McCoy's surprisingly slack grip--which speaks louder than any protest--and sets it down, then clamps his hand on Bones' bicep, nodding at the nurse as he basically hauls a startled McCoy out of the 'bay. "Consider it done. I promise I won't bring him back in pieces." He winks at her (is that a smirk?) face. "At least not many."

Just before the exeunt, McCoy finds himself long enough to yell over his shoulder: "If I'm not back in ten minutes, call my mother!"

"She'd leave you in there if she saw what I've done to the place," Jim comments nonchalantly as they make their way through the corridors.

McCoy snorts, which should not be attractive, and, really, isn't, but continues to endear him to Jim in an explicitly non-consensual way.

Jim tugs a little harder.

McCoy follows up, wryly of course: "I doubt my mother would appreciate anything your depraved mind came up with. She is a lady, and a southern one at that."

Kirk waggles his eyebrows. "Who's to say I haven't debauched a few of those?"

McCoy eye-rolls so hard Jim can practically feel it. He grins with anticipatory pleasure.

"Just go with it, Bones."

The eyebrow climbs, but McCoy clearly is resigned to this little jaunt.

"Computer," Jim commands as soon as they're both inside, "bring up program Coke and Peaches."

McCoy's eyebrow reaches new and incredible heights. "Jim, what in tarnation--"

But Jim shakes his head sharply just as the setting starts to kick in, and McCoy for once leaves off the scolding--

Because as the countryside unfolds around them, the scold becomes words of wonder.

"…have you done?"

Jim watches his face, feeling smug. "You haven't even seen the best part."

And he turns and gestures to the car like he's presenting the keys to the city. (Which he actually got, by the way; he sent the Holovid to his mom. Her response was to edit it so Jim had a pirate hat and eyepatch then send it back to him. Bones had laughed for ages.) McCoy chuckles and the wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothes out for a moment and warmth slides through Jim.

Warmth and the thought that maybe, just maybe, this whole Captain thing, this whole _life_ thing, could work out after all.

\---

It becomes ritual. Not a timed one, understand, because life on this starship flat-out isn't like that. But whenever Jim has that itch, just under his skin, he seeks out McCoy and they roll through farms and humidity and clouds of mosquitoes the size of his head.

Outside the walls of the 'deck, years pass. Inside, time stretches out like a month of lazy, languid Sundays.

 

 **  
c   
**

Then one day, eight days after Jim had pulled off a (mostly legal) negotiation without anything blowing up or anyone getting brain washed--hell, nobody but Jim even got nicked, and that was just a flesh wound--McCoy stops Jim from going to the driver's seat.

Jim cocks an eyebrow at him (turns out it _is_ a conspiracy). "What's up?"

McCoy shrugs. Won't meet Kirk's eyes. Finally, he purses his lips and looks up. "Can't keep you on the right road, otherwise."

It's such a Bones thing to say, gruff and downtrodden and totally not the issue at hand. But Jim knows what Bones is saying in there, somewhere. Like he always does. It's the same shit everyone says to him, but from Bones, with that pain in his voice and that look on his face like he's holding fiercely onto something treasured…

Something inside Jim loses the fight.

He reaches for McCoy, hauling him forward by the back of the neck, and kisses him. Just kisses him, a hard press of lips and tongue and teeth that means nothing and everything.

Then he pushes him away, a twist to his lips and a sparkle to his eye.

"The hell, Jim." McCoy looks wary, but not disinclined.

Jim claps him on the shoulder, pushes him towards the driver's side, and tosses him the keys. "Just drive."

\---

For a while, Jim doesn't think about it. Just enjoys the rushing air over the windshield, the purr of the engine, the curves in the road.

Then the heavens open up.

He blinks up into the rain and laughs, delighted. Then he turns to McCoy, expecting him to slow, to stop the car and end the program, to do the smart thing and head out of the rain.

He has another thing coming.

Bones is _speeding up_. Bones is letting them both get soaked in the rain, down to their tighty-whities. Bones is taking the curves with practiced ease, downshifting in and sliding out on a burst of speed. Bones is sending Jim's stomach on a hell of a ride.

It's fucking awesome.

Adrenaline high, warmth bubbling through him even as his skin chills with the wet, his gaze gets stuck on McCoy's face. Bones's jaw is smooth and wet, his lashes spiked, his hair in damp snakes stuck to his skin… Droplets are chasing each other down the whorls of his ear…

As if he can sense Jim's inspection, McCoy's mouth tilts up and he spares him a sideways glance. "You're not the only one with a misspent youth under his belt." He grips the shifter and agilely sends them around a sweeping curve, and Jim feels the tires skid just a little.

And he sees Bones _smile_. A grin mixed with a smirk mixed with some wonder, and Jim wants to take a picture, wants to steal this moment, wants to figure out the recipe so he can make it appear when he's had a bad day.

Then he follows the line of a drop down McCoy's neck, and takes in his soaked uniform shirt, rumpled and clinging, and the line of his thigh, tensing and relaxing as he pushes in and out of gear…

"Stop the car," Jim says.

Bones glances at him again. "You feelin' all right?"

Jim nods. "Just… stop the car."

And McCoy does, he pulls over to the side of the road because misspent youth or not, he's now well-trained, and as the engine dies he turns to Jim, eyebrows drawn together.

Then he sees how close Kirk is to him, feels Kirk's hand as it slides down his side and grabs hold of his shirt, and a small 'Oh' escapes his mouth before getting swallowed by Jim's kiss.

This one, Jim draws out, lets be drawn out. Lazily maps territory, purposefully bites tender skin. The rain darts between their open mouths, paving the way for slick spit and warmth, so much warmth, seeping down into Kirk's chest.

Then -- "Damn it, Jim," McCoy mutters into Kirk's mouth, his hand on Jim's chest, and Kirk has a momentary premonition that he's about to get rejected.

McCoy pulls back and looks at him, his gaze moving between Jim's lips and eyes. His crow's feet triple as he delivers his verdict.

"The front seat is no place for this."

Jim stares back at him. Then he grins. "Brilliant deduction, my dear Bones."

McCoy _does_ push Jim away then, rolling his eyes and reaching for the door. Jim just jungle-gyms it over the seats and meets McCoy before he can do much more than touch the back door handle.

He pulls Bones to him, into the hard side of the car, sliding wet hands under wet fabric onto wet skin, and, eyes twinkling, licks at his chin. At his jaw, at the water there.

McCoy huffs out air and his arms wrap around Jim's torso. "Kid, you really are somethin'."

"Mm-hmm," Jim agrees against wet shell of an ear. "Something awesome."

Something akin to a growl comes out of McCoy and Kirk feels him begin to move but is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself being bodily hauled backwards until he's folded against the other side door, his legs splayed out along the seat. McCoy is wedged in on top of him, one knee on the floor and the other leg between Kirk's, but the weight and the confinement is a turn-on, sucking the breath right out of his lungs as McCoy sucks a bruise onto the skin of Kirk's neck.

"Bones…" He wheezes out a laughing protest at the mark.

"I can fix it later," McCoy mutters into his skin.

Jim doesn't even think, just yanks McCoy's head back by the hair. "Don't you dare," he says contradictorily. Then he contradictorily kisses McCoy incredibly gently, because that's what you do when somebody makes you feel like it's Christmas morning when they laugh or smile or touch your shoulder. You show them.

At least until he can't stand it anymore, because heat is pulsing through him and he wants McCoy to feel it too. He tightens his grip in Bones's hair and opens McCoy's mouth with his tongue.

McCoy makes a noise in his throat, and shifts until his thigh is hard at Kirk's groin and Jim's cock wakes up and says hello. Kirk kisses harder, and McCoy responds by setting up a rough rhythm that has Kirk grunting in no time, stunned by how his body is catapulting beyond fooling around and into--

"Fuck, Bones," he gasps into McCoy's open mouth, "if you don't stop I'm gonna--" He's cut off by his own groan as McCoy somehow supports all his weight on one hand and reaches up to find Jim's left nipple and tweak it, hard.

"You're gonna what, Jim?" McCoy murmurs, his breath hot in Jim's ear, his voice languid and wet like the air around them. "If I keep doing this--" He tweaks again, then rubs soothingly with those hands, as his tongue traces patterns into Jim's neck. "--you'll what?"

Then, incredibly unfairly, he bites down on Jim's neck. Hard.

Jim comes with a whimper. Into his pants, like he's 15.

The smug look on McCoy's face is epic.

Kirk groans, closes his eyes, and pulls Bones back down to him, an admittance and a rebellion all at once. The weight is a comfort, now, as his breathing slows and the rain washes away the sweat of his brow. "I told you. Awesome," he says to the air, to Bones, to himself.

After a moment, he gathers his nerves around him, and gently tugs until McCoy is up and looking at him. "You know..." He swallows. "You can drive anytime you like, Bones."

There's a pause. "Yeah?" He's searching Kirk's face, hard. Wary.

"Yeah. Even though I might not always agree with where you're headed." McCoy snorts, but he's not done. "I…" He pushes against his own fear. "Trust you." The rest is barely words, drowned in the rain and the heat. "Just you."

McCoy's mouth curls, the slightest bit, and those crows feet are back. He leans down and brushes his lips over Kirk's. "Yeah, kid. I know. Me too."

 **  
_FIN_   
**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Speeding Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939693) by [Canon_Is_Relative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Is_Relative/pseuds/Canon_Is_Relative)




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